C'est La Vie
by Lynne D. Mariza
Summary: They called her the Snake Charmer. MoD!Harry
**C'EST LA VIE**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, X-Men or any of its characters.

 **Warnings:** Fem!Harry. Set in the X-Men Movie-verse. Starts off with First Class.

 **A/N:** Just a teeny bit of background of the HP verse before we leave that for X-Men.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

 **Forever** is a long time.

A very, very long time to be exact. Immeasurable. But then again, how would one classify forever in a state of limbo? An existence frozen in time? For if no time passed, then would it not be _never_ because nothing _ever_ changed? Then, what really could you call _forever_?

It is hard to describe. This itchy feeling that clawed at the pits of one's stomach. Not hunger, but something of the same nature. A deep want or increasing need for change. Harry called it her adventure senses tingling. But others may simply categorise it as a growing sense of restlessness.

Things can be difficult when one is not gifted with the natural sense of eternity that comes as an instinct of immortality. It is unnatural. The way that time has frozen, on just one single person.

Immortality is a rather strong word. Frankly, the very idea of becoming not 'mortal' had been terrifying. It haunted her in glaring red eyes. In hisses and snarls and impossibly flat noses. Of something, no longer human.

It was all very dramatic and hissy. A fit of sorts.

She had been quite prone to those back then. She still is now, but not as often, far less often. Harry likes to think she has grown wiser with age. If Hermione was here, she would claim that she had gone mad. She thinks of her often. Of her and Ron. And sometimes just Ron. But mostly together, as in all three of them. The trio. The best tag team.

Hermione had always been the one to knock sense into her. And if one found seventeen year old Hermione threatening with a book, well seventy year old Hermione was far more threatening if not deadlier with her trusty wand and 'homely' cooking. Hermione had always been taken with a quite...literal way of knocking sense into people. Though Ron had usually been on the receiving end, whenever he would drift off into one of his moods again.

Then that too, had lagged with age and trickled down with experience. Unfortunately, Ron started to swear more as well. Hermione never liked it. She would usually demonstrate her displeasure quite physically, a habit that even all these years of holding a wand had been futile to break. Though, personally Harry thought perhaps it was for the best that Hermione tended to need a moment to remember she was a witch in fits of anger.

Ron usually ended up swearing even more from the love taps. It was a rather vicious cycle. And then the little ones came. Now that had been a task in itself. There was a wonder that came with the birth of a new life. Or rather births. For Hermione had been quite well and proud in continuing the tradition of a large happy Weasley family. There was a lot of red. Lots.

And of course Harry had fit right in. She always did. It was incredibly hard not to. She still kept Mrs Weasley's first jumper, the very first one. Oh, the wonders of magic. More of a sentiment than as a fashion statement. But Harry had never really bothered with such things. Even lesser nowadays.

She had always enjoyed huddling up in her first real gift. There was something rather magical about tracing the letter of her name, all knitted firmly with threads of love so powerful, that it continued to reverberate even after the owner's death. It was a warm feeling. Yet, intense at the same time. Like fire.

Harry thought it was a perfect memoir of Molly Weasley. Who burned with a passion, who loved and fought and lived with the biggest heart out of them all. It could be considered rather inane to gain all this from a single piece of woollen garment. Yet it was proof of the fact, that the Weasley matron had bothered, had spent time putting together something for a lonely orphan girl. For Harry, not the Girl-Who-Lived. Magic was after all much more prominent and long lasting in those crafted by hand. The owner's intent was all but drowning the fabric, the warmth seeking through every thread. It was much more than a single wave of the wand.

It was a lovely token. A token of the past, perhaps. Though really, her mind was in such disparity that she would give away half her inheritance, just for the look on Snape's face if he were to try to dig through her mind, right at this very moment.

But then again, there was no Snape. A fact that still left her somewhat conflicted. Though that had soon turned into mere numbness like various other things. She only ever liked to keep the happy thoughts. It was nicer that way.

Much nicer to recall smiles and laughter, like they happened just the other day.

Her mind was somewhat of a mess. Not an ugly mess. Far from it in fact. There was no 'humble' way of going about it. It was a _nice_ mess. Perhaps, it could be likened to what one would see if they were to gaze out at the galaxy and attempt to count all the stars. There were simply too many. Too many memories in Harry's case.

Experience, maturity, yet rather than maturity, it seemed that the witch had gained a rather strange combination of aging and mentality. She had the memories, but there was a lone sort of detachment to them. Harry had always found it rather easy to claim that she felt as old as she looked, perhaps even younger if she was feeling cheeky. An incredibly mature teenager. One with the hands of unimaginable power at the very tips of her fingers. It served to be a rather lovely combination.

How very curious indeed.

It was not quite so appreciated by her friends, what with them going through a mid-life crisis about the same time that they also had to deal with their best friend trying to catch up on all the childhood years missed. One that didn't look like it was going to end any time soon. The wonders of teenage rebellion.

But would it really be so surprising that immortality came hand to hand with youth?

* * *

 **Harry** has no idea what she is doing.

She rarely does these days. But then again, and mind you there were quite a lot of 'oh then again's, she never really did in the first place. It had always been a matter of survival. And after that, a matter of having fun. Embracing her heritage.

She had always been rather proud of being a marauder. And what better way to show her pride then making a few trips to Hogwarts every now and then. She knew that McGonagall was secretly just a big softie on the inside. Somewhere. Somewhere deep, deep down. But it was there. Hopefully.

Though back to the matter at hand. Harry is in the middle of nowhere. Or rather more accurately classified as nowhere near England. Wizarding England to be exact, or any wizard actually. But that wasn't _that_ important, right?

It was simply a case of wanderlust.

A couple old tomes, a douse of knowledge, some poking into the possibilities of being the Master of Death, and then all mixed up with a healthy dose of Gryffindor courage, then:

"Voila!"

Dimension hopping achieved.

She felt like she deserved a trophy. A very shiny trophy, or perhaps a medal. She never really did get one for killing Voldemort. It was all just kind of forgotten in the aftermath of just reforming and rebuilding a few things here and there. And if the Ministry of Magic had gone through some rather significant changes. Well, Dumbledore's Army had always been quite deadly. So perhaps, Umbridge had been right about _something_ , if not years off.

Personally, Harry felt like Neville did a wonderful job. She had always known that he had it in him. Well, not really. But the act of destroying one of Voldemort's last horcruxes was more than enough for her to finally realise, that well, perhaps she should have been doing something more than just running around in the woods. Not that she had much choice in the matter, but it was something that she had been quick in rectifying. That all three of them had been quick to rectify.

Though Harry and Ron had always had a conspiracy that Hermione only worked as hard as she did for Neville's campaign, because he was the only one too kind say anything against S.P.E.W. Though later on, Harry had went along with it, just for the laughs and Ron too, although somewhat begrudgingly. But it was love that ultimately pushed him into actively making an effort. And there it was again, the magical word. Love. What a _lovely_ thought.

It had been grungy and hard. Because after all, not every elf was Dobby. There simply weren't enough Dobby's to go around the world. In fact Harry didn't think there ever would be. She still had an old habit of collecting mismatched socks. Just for the sake of well, socks. Socks were great, mismatched ones even more so. She was sure that Dumbledore would have agreed. Ron had gone along with it, though more because of the fact that the Pureblood's reactions to the new raging fashion were definitely worth the trouble. In fact socks had ended up going hand in hand with S.P.E.W. Though unfortunately S.O.C.K just didn't have quite the same ring as the 'Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare'. Nothing really did.

Hermione had been stuck between being terribly disapproving and terribly amused. In the end she settled on laughing. A great big grin every time Harry told wild stories of adventure with Ron forever standing faithfully beside, holding a sock temptingly at a house elf. He got rather good at it too. And of course contrary to Hermione, the greatest reward to them was perhaps seeing the satisfied smile on her face, when the simple fact that they were actually making an impact sunk in.

Hermione had spun around in that moment. Hair wild and eyes bright, before she all but leaped and embraced both her and Ron, all three of them tumbling into a great big dog pile. Then Harry had gotten up and laughed at the both of them for being old bones, when Ron had needed a bit of helping hand to get up. He had chased her all around the building just for that comment. He had ended with bright gold skin to go along with his famous Weasley hair for his troubles.

Harry had been sorry to find a few grey hairs tucked in between red.

It was all the little things in life, Harry supposed, that really brought true joy. Though it was Luna who truly taught her how to leave the little negative balls of energy that she had been gathering up behind. Of freedom, true freedom, emotionally and physically.

There had been an initial jealousy. A childish rage at the thought of losing her two best friends. The sheer indignity at the doting lavished upon her as they both aged, gracefully of course, and when she remained exactly the same. Forever stuck in time.

It was a petty fear, perhaps one on par or even worse than that time when she had been beaten at becoming prefect. She felt like they were drifting apart, that they were no longer on the same plane. She had felt it back then too, hardly as severe as now, but it was a good comparison to show that perhaps she hadn't really matured as much as her experiences may have suggested.

The feeling where one was ripped away from what they were so sure of getting had been rather unpleasant. It had been the one time where she had been absolutely sure of gaining the title. She was the girl-who-lived. Sure, she didn't get the greatest grades, but she wasn't bad either and she had quidditch. She always had quidditch. And hadn't she risked her life enough times to earn such a simple privilege? Of being recognised and labelled for something else other than her scar. Hadn't it already been enough that she had been isolated throughout summer? Of being lied to by the ones that she thought she could trust.

And the thoughts just went on and on. Harry had always possessed a rather large rage monster. Passionate and expressive, were not always good. Nothing ever was, when done to the extreme. For passion could give way to uncontrollable rage and expressiveness could lead to thoughtless comments. She had learnt that, one of the few things that she didn't let her child-like mentality brush away.

Luna had helped with all of that. Of chucking away the rotten and keeping the good. It could be rather simple if one thought about it. Though, it was one of those things that got harder with age.

In fact, it had been Luna who had suggested the idea at first. Perhaps, not in those exact words, but that was the way Harry interpreted them.

She had told her to "spread her wings" for the nargles were upon her, though they seemed somewhat restless, a new environment would do them some good. Or something along those lines. Harry could never quite remember. Conversations with Luna was like that. Incredibly refreshing yet somewhat dazing at the same time.

Hermione had often claimed that she spent far too much time with Luna than what was necessary. Enough that she was starting to pick up on some of the same "air-headed" qualities and the same "forever misty-eyed look". The two had grown somewhat closer over the years, but they never really did see eye to eye. Hermione with her absolute logical resourcefulness and Luna's passive-aggressiveness were not the greatest mix. But it didn't matter, Luna and her enjoyed getting together and laughing at all the ones who were really starting to get old. Only, it was mostly her doing the laughing. But that was merely a minor detail.

But then again, (ah there it was _again_ ) looking up at the sign in front of her. She decides that Hermione could be wrong at times. Luna really was a genius in her own right. After all, this idea seemed like it has been going quite well so far. Like all of Harry's other plans, except Harry never really did have plans in the first place.

What Harry needed was a good ol' adventure and what better way to do that then to visit a whole new universe. People always spent holidays in places different from their own. Harry just had a tendency to go that extra mile. It's all in the name of good fun.

Harry took another step and gave a brief glance at the cafe in front of her. "Central Perk." She took one look in the reflection of the glass showing the metal table flying across the room on its own and grinned.

"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good."

Now, that was a promise.

* * *

 **America** , Harry decided, was a lovely place to be.

She had already started off the day by giving someone a massive migraine. But that's just a minor detail in the larger scheme of things. Really, it wasn't her fault that he had attempted to read her mind. She had forgotten about the whole chaotic mind problem _ages_ ago. Surely, that was no reason to put a damper on the mood.

Currently though, they were at the zoo. Harry was thoroughly convinced that Charles and Erik were both lovely human beings. Not even an hour into their first meeting and they were already planning their first heist together. How sweet.

Charles was starting to think that perhaps breaking into a zoo and stealing a snake wasn't the brightest idea. Neither did Erik, as of a matter of fact. Harry thought it was brilliant, but she tended to think everything was brilliant nowadays.

"I'm not terribly convinced that this is a good idea," Charles mumbled. "Are you sure that you absolutely cannot live without robbing the zoo."

Harry only gasped in mock-horror. "I had no idea you thought that badly of me", she held up her arms in a dramatic gesture, "To drag my noble intention down to the petty level of a crime. I just wanted to save the poor little ones from zee horrible cage.."

"I may not be able to dive into your memories, but that smirk and the brush of your surface thoughts are more than enough..."

"Well, I bet you wouldn't appreciate being stuck in a cage and being treated like a freak by clueless people poking their fingers at you all the time," Harry mumbled, matching Erik's disapproving look with a cheeky grin.

"I still don't get how this relates to your mutation."

She only waved a hand dismissively, already losing interest in the conversation before diving into the crowds. The two men could only curse as they chased behind the girl almost two heads shorter than them, hopefully before they lost their latest recruit.

Erik still didn't know how they ended up with a red-headed English girl, after an attempt to recruit a pissy and rude man chewing cigars at a bar. In fact he didn't really understand why said bar was located opposite a café in the first place. He hadn't really appreciated being told to "fuck off", and somehow that had ended up with a girl who really was too stubborn and curious for her own good catching snippets of their rather heated conversation.

All in all, it had resulted in an impromptu trip to the zoo. Charles had argued rather heavily against recruiting someone who looked like they had barely just entered their teens into a fight against world domination. And that was even before the whole "we need to rob a zoo first" conversation started.

 _"Oh trust me, this", she pointed to herself, "is just an accident. I've totally got the experience necessary to deal with a man bent over conquering the world."_

(It was a rather long story actually. But Hermione had once again proven the absolute brilliance of magic, casting a rather impressive sprout of accidental magic, though perhaps the mysterious scroll that she had been clutching onto at the time. And for a lack of more...eloquent words, Harry had simply been de-aged by a couple of years, not a lot, but just enough to gain back the round baby fat of her youth to look even younger than her physical age. She believed that her exact words had been something along the lines of:

"If you're going to be this childish, you might as well look the part."

Needless to say, she had not been impressed with her latest prank. Hermione had been terribly apologetic after the incident. Though Harry hadn't really minded. She was just happy that it had served as a timely distraction that saved her from the lecture that she would surely have gotten. She waved off any of Hermione's attempts to correct the procedure, knowing that with Hermione's work ethic, she would surely never rest until she found a cure. And that was never really the healthiest approach. Her and Ron had been trying to ease her out of the habit for years, but had never really succeeded. There was no point in adding to her already massive self-implicated workload.)

Erik only gave another heavy sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration as he tried to find the girl. It wasn't a terribly hard job, even without Charles' mutation. Harry Potter, as she had introduced herself, simply stuck out like a beacon. And it wasn't just her outlandish colouring either.

Charles was still pursing and crossing his arms in disapproval, even as he watched Harry visibly vibrate in excitement as they got deeper into the reptile section. He almost dropped his jaw when the hissing began.

The two men watched, in somewhat amazement as the red-head flittered around the cages and fawned over each and every snake as if they were her child. Her hand trembled as she waved her hands continually over the cage, as if the glass would simply vanish with a flick of her wrist. Harry seemed excited. Positively giddy, as she looked back to the two men with pleading eyes.

Charles took one look and blanched. Erik just casually busied himself with looking around at the reptile specimens offered.

"Absolutely not."

"Oh please, some of them haven't even seen the outside world before," Harry said.

There was a lot of prodding and begging. The snakes' stares were also starting to become a bit unnerving as they pressed their glass heads against the cage and hissed with their forked tongues and sharp fangs.

"One and only one," Charles said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turned his back, somewhat reluctant to witness a 'crime' scene.

Unfortunately, the two didn't have quite so enough time to be fascinated by their new recruit's _language_ abilities, before she ended up freeing a whole bunch of snakes in a less than desirable way.

Her hand was still drenched in blood and her skin probably had half a dozen glass shards stuck in them. Harry didn't care. She was too busy trying to herd out her new followers with an excited hiss. An almost war-like shrill sounded out.

The alarms were blaring off in the background. Harry's hand twitched again, before she roughly stuffed her right hand into her pocket, abruptly staining the front with red. But the familiar habit was still there and there was an almost pang when she felt nothing after a muttered mumble of _silencio._

Charles was groaning by now. Bemoaning the fact that this whole venture had been a mistake right from the very beginning. Nevertheless, he still managed to get the three out there, scot-free and with none of the zookeepers any wiser. Harry suspected that there would be a large scandal the very next day and found herself even giddier at the thought.

Meanwhile though, Erik was on the phone, barking at whoever was on the other end to "hurry and pick us up, before any other insanity happens" while Charles was doing his very best to not look into those solemn green eyes. They were a very intense colour. An impossible shade of green, if he had not been staring into them right at this moment. They even seemed a little watery. He winced.

"Come on Harry, we agreed on this at the beginning didn't we," he said. His hands offered in mock-surrender. "Besides, wouldn't some of them rather be released out into the wild?"

Charles decided to keep the tiny little fact that he was sure that many of the snakes might not exactly have been well-adapted to modern-day America to himself. Harry glanced at him suspiciously after that comment, before suddenly breaking out into a wide grin.

"Okay. But I'm keeping this one."

She held up a rather pretty snake, and gosh did it feel weird to describe a scaly reptile as 'pretty', but Charles just found himself feeling rather relieved that the whole situation had been resolved without any waterworks.

Unfortunately, they also ended up making many detours, because Harry wanted to be absolutely sure that every single one of her new 'friends' got home safely. She was also holding an albino snake that was tangled all the way around her arms and neck as she hissed to it happily.

Despite the whole, "robbing a zoo" thing, Charles did feel somewhat content in the fact that they had done some good and really now that he had time to actually sit down and think about it. And not you know freeze time and wipe out people's memories, Harry's mutation really did seem quite fascinating. He resolved to ask if it was just snakes or if she could talk to any other creatures. His mind was already spinning into different theories on DNA and brain plasticity.

Though he did have to placate the nervous pilot enough that he wouldn't flinch every time the newly christened "Hedy*" decided to go wandering around the plane.

It was a rather bumpy ride back to the base. Lots of turbulence.

* * *

 **A/N:**

*Hedy is a diminutive for the name Hedwig, which is a German name.

Anyways, this is just a product of my overactive imagination. Not really sure about where this is going, but right now this is just some lighthearted stuff. Still debating on whether I should continue it, but anyways. Voila.


End file.
